


Sumo Salad

by slyferris (Ethsei)



Series: 60 Minutes of Homin [1]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3631575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethsei/pseuds/slyferris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yunho and Changmin argue over dinner choices at very inappropriate times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sumo Salad

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt: noir (which I... sort of followed)

Jung Yunho held a gun to his target’s head, his partner Shim Changmin to the left reflecting his actions. Yunho cocked his gun and the stubby man whimpered and shivered in the wooden chair so hard it rattled. Changmin gave a big eye roll and snapped his head to Yunho.

“Just _ask_ him what you want to. The dude’s practically pissing his pants, I’m pretty sure he’ll give up the information when you, you know, take off the gag.”

Yunho smirks all feral and uncontained and Changmin gives him a sharp look. Yunho tones it down a notch (a very small notch) and lowers the gun. He unties the gag while Changmin keeps his aim steady on the man’s temple, eyes cold as steel.

“Where’s the chancellor’s money?” he demands, voice thick and rough. When he doesn’t get a proper response, only a series of garbled noises, Yunho puts his hands on his hips and gives Changmin an exasperated look. “Take the gag off, he said. He’ll talk then, he said.”

“Oh shut the hell up. He will when you stop giving him those evil grins. That can really freak a dude out, you know.”

“It’s just my face,” Yunho defends.

“Get a new one. Wait—here, let me try.” Changmin walks closer to the target and does his best to smile innocently like the angel he sort of is. Well. It was debateable. In any case, Changmin at least _looks_ like he could be an angel. “Look man, we just want the chancellor’s money. We don’t have to hurt you, we just need you to give us a few directions then you can go on your merry way, go back home, bang your wife, have a shot of whiskey, whatever it is you do. Just give it up.”

The man starts sobbing for Jesus and Yunho gives him a smug smirk.

Changmin wants to kiss it off right this instant, but it doesn’t seem the most appropriate scenario for a make out session. A pity, Changmin thinks.

“It didn’t work because you scared him first!” Changmin complains, and Yunho just keeps giving him that smirk look that makes Changmin simultaneously boils his blood and turns him to butter. It’s an odd mix, but it happens and Changmin really hates it. Sort of. Mostly.

“Anyway, I guess if we punch him up a little he might get a bit more delirious then he’ll talk?”

Changmin does so then puts a hand on his chin and watches as the blood drips from the target’s nose. He gives his chin a good scratch then returns to questioning, but once again only gets something that sounds a bit like, “aasrrhghghghklhhsdg”.

It’s really not at all helpful.

“Here’s an idea,” Yunho throws in. “The first person to get him to talk gets to pick out dinner. I want KFC.”

Changmin groans and rolls his eyes. “Not KFC _again._ We have the every-fucking-time we’re in a ten mile radius of a store. Aren’t you sick of it by now?”

“Dream on. KFC is a man’s life, his pride, his ambition, his—“

“Yunho. Shut up please.”

Yunho looks like he’s going to complain then he just shrugs. “What do you want? And for the love of God, don’t say something green—“

“Salad. You know that,” he makes a vague gesture as he tries to explain, “box thingy they do at Sumo Salad? I want a chicken pasta salad, and, _and_ if I win, I get to choose what you eat.”

“Oh dear god no,” Yunho says, clutching his heart very seriously.

The target coughs and they simultaneously remember they’re in the middle of an interrogation. “Oh,” Yunho says, “Sorry, right, forgot about you for a hot minute there Jim.” He raises his gun back up and then has a very violent go at trying to make him speak with no success. Changmin just watches with an evil laugh bubbling in his throat, far too entertained by the scene than he should be. Logically he knows the cops will catch up to them eventually, but he thinks they’ve still got another hour before the alarm system he hacked restores and sets off.

“Sumo Salad,” Changmin chants in the background the harder Yunho fails. After ten minutes of brutal interrogation, Yunho throws in the towel and chucks his arms in the air (a very dangerous move considering he has a gun in his hand that’s uncapped).

Changmin tries a different tactic. He gets out his phone and tracks down the guys Facebook. “Lovely wife you’ve got there,” he says, showing good old Jim his own profile picture of he and his wife standing on some beach like the Bahamas or some fancy shit with coconut trees in the background.

“Hold that thought there, Jim—Hey Yunho, when we get the money can we go to the Bahamas?”

Yunho scowls and picks at a nail. “Whatever. As long as we get to fly first class. I am _not_ sitting in one of those shitty, unreliable chairs again. My back was sore for weeks.”

“Huh. Cool, sounds good. Maybe in May?”

“June would be better, we’ve got a heist scheduled for mid-May.”

Changmin lets out a long suffering sigh. “Damn it. I knew we should’ve booked that for April. Anyway, Jim, if you don’t talk, A) I can’t go to the Bahamas with my boyfriend here, and B) I may have to horribly torture your family for information.”

Jim lets out a strangled yelp then actually makes a sound that sounds like “wait.”

Changmin does.

Jim takes a deep breath and then spills it all.

When they’re pulling the money from behind the painting, Yunho says in his ear, “I _knew_ he would put it behind the painting. Where is the originality?”

Changmin just shrugs and says, “Sumo Salad.”


End file.
